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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886378">Gossip Rag</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptographic_Delurk/pseuds/Cryptographic_Delurk'>Cryptographic_Delurk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dragon Age II Quest - The Long Road, Gen, Mid-Canon, Multi, and isabela and merrill may like each other, and isabela likes all of them or none of them or some of them (except donnic), and it’s all a smokescreen for a mildly sad isabela character study, anders likes hawke who likes aveline who likes donnic, it's complicated but-, love dodecahedron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:48:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886378</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptographic_Delurk/pseuds/Cryptographic_Delurk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aveline attempts to court Donnic, and it’s a veritable conga line of hilarity and humiliation and hypocrisy.</p><p>That just left Isabela to stand in the back, watch the show, and laugh herself sick.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Isabela &amp; Merrill (Dragon Age), Isabela (Dragon Age)/Everyone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gossip Rag</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">“Oh, this is glorious. All this flailing is her idea of courtship,” Isabela laughed.</p><p class="western">It was indeed the most delightfully embarrassing thing that Isabela had been party to witness in a long time. Lady Man Hands trying and failing to keep her effervescent hormones in check, and now it was coming out in bizarre displays of dowry tradition and blatant nepotism.</p><p class="western">And Aveline was so easily riled up about it, even Isabela speaking the truth of the matter got her all flush and flustered. The banter came so easily to Isabela she hardly had to think of <em>what </em>she was saying. She focussed all her energy on <em>how</em> she was saying it, when she leaned in puckered her lips around the word ‘prig’.</p><p class="western">“Slattern,” Aveline replied, and Isabela watched rapt as Aveline’s tongue darted around the sibilant. Their chests were nearly pressed together, and Isabela was convinced she could have Lady Man Hands flush against her and up against the desk in another three seconds, if Hawke hadn’t chosen that moment to break up their… confrontation. Because wasn’t it just like Hawke to butt in the second it seemed like everyone’s adoration wasn’t focussed solely on her?</p><p class="western">That’s when things got <em>really</em> funny.</p><p class="western">“What makes Donnic so special when someone <em>closer </em>to you might be interested?” Hawke wiggled her eyebrows and rather unsubtly pointed at herself as she delivered this line.</p><p class="western">“Nothing,”Aveline responded, before launching into a list of Donnic’s subpar yet inexplicably attractive qualities. She seemed completely oblivious to the way Hawke deflated in front of her.</p><p class="western">“She'd do a lot better just get this fellow alone in a room,” Anders quipped. “Life's too short.” He then fixed a longing gander at Hawke’s back as she left the room, on another errand from Aveline to help seduce the guardsman dunce.</p><p class="western">It was a veritable conga line of hilarity and humiliation and hypocrisy. And the strangest part was none of the players seemed to be aware of it. Not Donnic, leading the procession. Not Aveline, who had apparently seduced her last husband by tripping over a Chantry pew and throwing them both to the ground in front of the altar. Not Hawke, who seemed to think the best way to get Aveline’s attention was to set her up with someone else. And not Anders, who thought he had any room to be criticising others for sitting on their hands and pining.</p><p class="western">That just left Isabela to stand in the back, watch the show, and laugh herself sick.</p><p class="western">Only Isabela found her mood strangely tested by the time this dragged out into an afternoon patrol of the Wounded Coast. She dragged behind as Hawke and Anders ran forward to clear out bandits, light the path, and scowl every time Aveline failed to come through on their plans. She was downright snippy when she finally told Donnic to take a hint and bend Aveline over a basin. And then silent and paling when Aveline finally seemed to realise what had been happening and lunged forward to lock lips with Hawke – a too late and too inappropriate thank you.</p><p class="western">It’s not like Isabela’s feelings were hurt. It didn’t matter that she’d nearly kissed Aveline in this very office the day before, and it had gone unrecognised. It didn’t matter that Hawke had slept with her and shared a very fancy chat about love, and then just moved on. It didn’t matter that she had once promised Anders passage out of Denerim, and secretly cursed herself for weeks for allowing him to be recaptured by the templars, but in the end he had made his own way and was now so obsessed with things like Hawke and Mages and Justice he barely had time to notice her.</p><p class="western">It did not matter that the three of them were all involved in a little microcosm of like and love and jealousy that Isabela had become too cynical to approach as anything but a spectator.</p><p class="western">She missed Zevran sometimes. Zevran had always made things like this easy for her. He would tell her that love wasn’t made for people like them, or else they’d missed their chance. But that did not mean they could not enjoy the artistry of beautiful people and pleasurable activity. Zevran was so fun. He always made things easy.</p><p class="western">Merrill could be fun too. That was what Isabela thought, when she decided to relay the story of that long road they’d walked along the Wounded Coast, trying to help a couple of hopeless cases get down and dirty in the Viscount's Keep.</p><p class="western">“It’s kind of a sad story,” Merrill said, from across the bench at the Hanged Man.</p><p class="western">“It was hilarious,” Isabela denied. “You must not have heard it right.”</p><p class="western">“I suppose there’s something cute about parts of it. Oh, and I <em>am</em> glad Aveline could share her feelings in the end,” Merrill admitted. “But you do spend a lot of time laughing at how the others feel. It’s not like they can help it… Isn’t there anyone you like, Isabela?”</p><p class="western">If anyone else had asked, Isabela probably would have blown them off. But it was Merrill, who was sweeter than a newborn foal, who Isabela trusted not to laugh.</p><p class="western">“I don’t know, Kitten,” Isabela said wistfully. It could have been any of them, or all of them, or none. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself, she had forgotten the feeling.</p><p class="western">Merrill glanced down at her lap. Isabela saw out of the corner of her eye, the way she rubbed her thumb over her ring.</p><p class="western">It was still early in the day. The light streamed bright through the high windows of the tavern. And drunks were waking up to dreadful hangovers.</p><p class="western">Merrill placed her hand on the table halfway between them, with her palm facing up so you could see the scars. “Sometimes I think the right person to love is the one that loves you back,” she said.</p><p class="western"><em>The one that </em>can<em> love you back</em>, Isabela thought. But she pushed it from her mind. Out of selfishness. Or hope. Or maybe just blind affection.</p><p class="western">“Wise words, Kitten,” she said, as she slapped her hand into Merrill’s and squeezed.</p><p class="western"> </p>
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